


Dread

by enigmalea



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Despair, Drabble, Elvhenan, Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Solas (Dragon Age), POV Third Person Limited, Present Tense, references to mythal's death, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27850754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/pseuds/enigmalea
Summary: A slightly longer drabble I knocked out because it was bouncing around in my brain. I think I just channeled a bunch of my 2020 feels into this, so I guess be aware of that. Set shortly after Mythal's death in Elvhenan.NOTE:Originally published 24 Sep 2020 on tumblr.
Kudos: 3
Collections: Frilly Cakes: A Collection of Dragon Age Drabbles and One Shots





	Dread

**Author's Note:**

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>  **prompt me:** [how to](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/post/185117840754) ☆ [submit](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/ask) ☆ [read on tumblr](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/tagged/my-drabbles) ☆ [read on ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/frillycakes)  
>   
>  **join me on discord:** [The Hanged Man](https://discord.gg/9RERC6R) (18+, DA fanfic server for writers, readers, and betas)

Solas is tired. Exhausted. Fatigued beyond measure.

He is lost.

He has worked slowly, relentlessly for years, pushing back against the corrupt and oppressive society he lives in. He has poked and prodded, inched along in measured, calculated, strategic gambits. He has counted victories in baby steps: in each vallaslin removed; in each person who thinks to question their lot in life; in each elf who dares to hope for more than servitude; in each individual who doubts the lie of the great Elvhen Empire shining like a jewel offering its people prosperity and security and opportunity. He has grown impatient, shoved his goals in their face wildly and recklessly, stepped out of the shadows and begun bloody revolutions. He has signed truces, settled, cowed; the losses have been too great and there was _progress_.

But tonight is different.

The last bright beacon of his hope has been snuffed out: gone is her ability to protect him, to work for him within the system, to shield him from the inevitable backslash, the wearing away of the progress he’s made. Mythal is dead and so is justice, reason, a voice of equity and equality.

All that is left is despair.


End file.
